My parents and I emigrated from the former Soviet Union when I was nine. (Well, technically, they emigrated. I came along.)

After landing in San Francisco and tearfully proclaiming that I would never, not ever learn English, I went on to major in English and get a PhD in Comparative Literature. Then I taught literature and composition to Stanford undergrads, worked in the Stanford admission office, and started a college counseling practice. I wrote a memoir about all of the above as well as the experience of raising three children who struggled with learning differences, anxiety, and depression while many of their peers—and pretty much all of the students I worked with—were loading up on AP courses and enrichment activities. Many of those students were also struggling with depression and anxiety. 

I wrote The Golden Ticket because I wanted to interrogate how we define success—for ourselves, for our children, for others—and to broaden the boundaries of that definition. I’ve written about the weight of generational expectations (and my main gripe with Never Have I Ever) and about the clutching fear that drives parents to hire college counselors who charge $120,000 a year or commit fraud to get their children into “good” schools. 

I also have strong feelings about the Oxford comma (pro), using silverware as a bookmark (why not, if it’s handy?), and being on Fresh Air with Terry Gross (this is a long-cherished dream and if you happen to know Terry please, PLEASE put in a good word).

I’m currently working on a second book, a collection of essays about mothers, daughters, and traveling in bad weather.